


Michael Was

by retrogaymer



Series: kissing your best friend of 12 years, and other reckless, chaotic, stupid, sweet fun [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Ableism, Autistic Jeremy Heere, Bisexual Jeremy Heere, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Michael Mell, Light Angst, M/M, Michael Mell has ADHD, Mutual Pining, They're The Screen The Light Is My Writing And I'm The Projector, they both have anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-04-20 21:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14269758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrogaymer/pseuds/retrogaymer
Summary: A series of works about falling in love with your stupid, dumb, amazing and wonderful best friend.





	1. pouring sugar over your Lucky Charms cereal and getting a stomach ache.

“That's  _ disgusting _ .”

Michael glanced up at Jeremy from the sugary concoction he was producing, stuck out the tip of his tongue between grinning teeth and winked at Jeremy. “Don't knock it till you try it!”

“I already have braces to deal with my messed up teeth, I don't want to give my mouth  _ more _ problems. Also, I'm pretty sure if I eat that much sugar, I'll, like, die - It's a wonder how  _ you _ haven't died yet, really,” Jeremy gestured at Michael's bowl with his spoon. Michael just shrugged, dug in and took his first bite - emitted an exaggerated moan at the taste. Jeremy made gagging noises like he was about to vomit, and Michael leaned over the small kitchen table to punch his shoulder.

Jeremy laughed, shoved him away, was about to punch him back, when - when something… Weird, happened.

The sun shining in through the open window caught Michael's face just right, made the coat of tiny crystals of sugar on his lips shimmer, his eyes glow up in sweet golden brown, his face bathed by the orange light in a way that made Jeremy's heart stutter, and his breath catch in his throat.

That beautiful face quirked a brow at him. “Do I have something on my face?”

Jeremy snapped out of whatever that was. “Yeah, a whole lot of stupid.”

Michael rolled his eyes, flicked a stray piece of dry Lucky Charms at Jeremy and went back to eating his cereal.   


Not even an hour later, as they had just set up Bomberman in Michael's room, Michael leaned over on Jeremy in his beanbag chair and groaned in pain.

“Jeeeeer, my stomach  _ hurts _ ,” he complained. Jeremy rolled his eyes.

“Hate to say I told you so, but-”

“You KNOW you don't,” Michael broke him off while shooting him a glare. Jeremy laughed.

“Okay, you're right;  _ I told you so _ and I'm gonna rub it in your face forever and ever.”

“I hate you,” Michael mumbled, buried his face in Jeremy's shoulder. His stomach made a weird gurgling noise and he groaned loudly, curled up a bit. Jeremy took pity, reached around to rub his back sympathetically. “It doesn't even make sense, honestly - when I eat them dry with sugar this never happens. It's only with  _ milk _ .”

Jeremy's brows furrowed - he tilted his head thoughtfully, pursed his lips. “Maybe the milks the problem?”

“I mean - maybe,” Michael shrugged, turned his head to squish his cheek against Jeremy. “I get it with cheese too. It's horrible, I can't even eat pizza right - or ice cream! Anytime I try my body rebels against me. It's tragic, really.”

“Michael -” Jeremy blinked, snorted, looked down at his idiot best friend still leaning on his shoulder. “That's… That sounds like lactose intolerance, and like you very much should  _ not _ be consuming dairy at all.”

Michael looked dumbstruck for a second, then furrowed his eyebrows, nose scrunching up in disbelief. “That's- what? I-... No, that can't - pull up webMD right now.”

Jeremy laughed, set his controller down to reach over and grab his laptop instead, pulling it into his lap, all the while Michael made impressive maneuvers to keep leaning on him that could in no way be comfortable. Jeremy fired up the computer, spent a few minutes waiting for Michael's stubborn internet to reach the basement - “here, check your symptoms.”

Michael reached forward to turn the screen towards himself, scanned over the page. Stared blankly. Flopped back to his own beanbag, stared up at the ceiling in disbelief. “My whole 13 years of life are a  _ lie _ ,” he whispered.

Jeremy snorted. “That's a little dramatic.”

“It is  _ NOT, _ ” Michael shot up again, “I can't - dude, my stomach won't let me eat  _ dairy _ , thats, fucken - “ he broke himself off mid sentence. Got an extremely sly look on his face as he turned his head to Jeremy again, pointed a finger at him. “So my stomach ache had  _ nothing _ to do with the heavenly sugar/Lucky Charms combo, and you're just a close-minded dingus.”

“Oh my  _ GOD,  _ dude,” Jeremy rolled his eyes, shut the laptop again and shoved it back off his lap.

“Cranky ‘cause you know I'm right, hm?”

“Flippant ‘cause you can't drink milk, huh?”

Michael's body proved to have just as perfect comedic timing as the boy did, punctuating Jeremy's sentence with another growl. Michael probably would have shoved Jeremy, was he not doubling over in pain with a whine. Jeremy sat up a little, worried -

“Are you being dramatic or should I, like, call someone?”

“It'll pass,” Michael grunted, leaned back again. “Just, like… If I run off suddenly, don't even question it. I'm in the bathroom and I'll be there for the next 20 minutes.”

Jeremy made a disgusted noise, retracted his chin a little. “Dude, tmi.”

Michael looked over at him, tilted his head. “Did you forget that I caught you jacking off the last time we had a sleepover?”

Jeremy went beet red, reached behind him blindly and chucked the first pillow he could find at Michael, while Michael fell back again and cackled.


	2. laughing so hard whatever you were drinking came out your nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for ableists slurs!! its just one (the r one) but its There so Just Warning Ya

Michael and Jeremy had a ritual that consisted of them going to 7/11 every friday after school, to celebrate surviving yet another week. 

Michael said his mama told him about it, how it was good to reward yourself for beating your anxiety. 

Michael rewarded himself in the form of red and blue (and, inevitably, purple) slushies and Hot Tamales, Jeremy in Code Red Mountain Dew and gummy worms.

The walk from their middle school to the convenience store was usually full of friendly chatter, but today, Michael was weirdly silent, looked like he was deep in thought. Jeremy thought nothing of it - it happened, occasionally, that Michael got really absorbed in something and zoned out completely. 

He aimlessly agreed on Jeremy's commentary on the contents of the aisles as they strolled through them - didn't even have to really concentrate on what was outside his own head to pick up his usual snacks. Jeremy probably didn't, either; they both liked routine. In different ways, most of the time, but when it came to candy, both of them were very predictable.

As soon as Jeremy had paid, he twisted open his red drink, headed for the door with Michael trailing behind, still lost in his own logic.

As they were leaving the store, he spoke up.

“If a cow laughed really hard, would milk come out of her nose?”

Jeremy snorted at exactly the wrong moment - felt a current of bubbles rip through his nasal passages and the next moment a burning sensation in his nose, shutting his eyes tightly and coughing out his lungs and whatever Mountain Dew he had inhaled down there. 

When he came to his senses, Michael, the absolute traitor, was laughing his ass off. He felt a hot wash of shame and humiliation when three other laughs joined him - Jake, Jenna and Chloe, currently leaving the 7/11 as well, side-eyeing him as they walked past. 

Michael immediately stifled his laughter, momentarily watched them wait for the traffic light to turn green so they could pass, before turning to Jeremy and snatching his drink from him, looking him seriously in the eyes. 

“Say something stupid.”

Jeremy blinked. “I- what? What do you mean?”

“Just, like, some  _ absolute _ garbage,” Michael clarified unhelpfully, now getting looks from Jenna and Chloe as well, the two girls whispering to each other - not quietly enough for Jeremy to miss snippets of the words  _ ‘retards’  _ and  _ ‘freaks’ _ , though. 

It made his eyes burn and his heart heavy - not to mention, made it pretty hard to concentrate on saying something stupid. He caught a break in the form of Jake jay-walking, though, and nearly getting hit by a bus, narrowly jumping out of the way with a yell. 

Jeremy gestured for Michael to take a mouthful - Michael did.

“Good news is he didn't die, bad news is we're still virgins.”

_ Snort. _

_ (Squeals from Chloe as drops of nose-mountain dew hit her clothes, made her give Michael the deadliest glare known to man before crossing the road as well.) _

Michael looked back to Jeremy, rubbing at his nose with a wheezy laugh. “Geez, that  _ hurts. _ ”

“Why-” Jeremy blinked, “ _ why _ did you do that?”

“Hey.” Michael sincerely placed his hand on his chest. “I'm the only one that's allowed to laugh at you. If you're getting ridiculed, I'm getting ridiculed with you, and that's just how it is!”

Jeremy stared at his face. Tears were still burning at his eyes, but not from shame. Rather, tenderness, and love for his best friend. “You're an idiot,” he sniffed, brought a hand up to rub at his eyes. Michael stepped forward, rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

“I sure as fuck am, but I'm  _ your _ idiot. Just like you're mine!”

Jeremy liked the sound of that. Of Michael being Jeremy's, of Jeremy being Michael's. He looked down at the Mountain Dew, made a face. “We wasted, like, half of that.”

Michael looked down at it as well. “Damn. Want me to buy you a new one? It was kind of my fault.”

“It was  _ entirely _ your fault,” Jeremy snorted, got a gentle shove from Michael. “I'm kind of - kind of turned off of Mountain Dew for now. Can you buy me an Arizona instead?”

Michael finger gunned at him, handed Jeremy his own snacks to go and retrieve his retribution.

Jeremy got a dumb smile on his face as he watched after him. Felt a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest - not unlike the one he had a few weeks ago, when they were in Michael's kitchen and the sunlight hit him just right. It made heat rise to Jeremy's cheeks, made his knees go weak and his voice even more shaky than usual. He still didn't know what it was, yet - didn't even know whether he liked it or not. 

It was there, though.

He supposed he'd just have to live with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: oh ive got a writers block on this other fic so ill write something nice and easy and sweet on the side to help  
> me: [gets writers block on the distraction]  
> me: Guess Ill Die
> 
> i promise the chapters get longer soon also fhsbdhdh


	3. twisting your ankle while playing hopscotch.

Some facts about Michael and his family:

Both of Michael's biological parents are second-generation immigrants. Michael's mom (Felisa Dani, Filipino) and Michael's dad (Oscar, Ecuadorian) first had Michael's brother (Victor) together, and then Michael, when Victor was four and a half.

When Michael was three and Victor seven (and a half), Felisa realized she was a lesbian. Oscar took it pretty well, all things considered - the two are still friends.

When Michael was four, Felisa met Michael's mama (Miya, also second-generation immigrant, _also_ Filipino), and by the time Michael turned six, they were married.

When Michael was 11, his dad got a job offer a few states over - New Hampshire. Not so far that it was unbearable, but far enough to split them up. All parts agreed that Felisa and Miya could better support two kids full-time than he could half-time, and having to drive two kids five hours every week would be both troublesome and costly.

When Michael turned 14 - a few months ago - his dad brought his girlfriend (River, white American) of half a year to his birthday party to meet in person for the first time, which turned out to be a great success. River also brought her own daughter (Tegan) of six years.

Jeremy's parents splitting was much more recent, and way less friendly - mainly, it started with a giant fight a few weeks post Jeremy's 13th birthday, and ended with Jeremy's mom storming out with a weeks worth of clothes packed in her suitcase and slamming the door behind her.

About two hours later, when Jeremy had finally calmed down enough from a meltdown to do so, he snuck out of his window to avoid meeting his father's eyes, and ran to Michael's house.

Michael let him in through his basement window, held Jeremy and muttered out soft words of comfort as Jeremy sobbed out the story as silently as possible, rubbed his back in slow circles and didn't even complain about his pajama shirt getting wet from Jeremy's tears.

As it turned out, though, Jeremy's sobbing wasn't silent enough, and eventually resulted in Miya waking up and coming to check on the noise.

She wasn't angry or upset, though, as Jeremy's brain loved to tell him all adults always were; she was just as sweet and soft as Michael, brewed Jeremy a cup of tea and had the three of them sit around their kitchen table to talk him through what was going on. As much as Jeremy would've liked to stop her, she also called his dad, just to inform him where Jeremy was, but Jeremy was still allowed to stay for the night.

After overhearing a few other boys talking about how weird sharing a bed with your friends was when they were 12, Michael and Jeremy had stopped, pretending they were just as weirded out over it. That night, though, they started again - both agreed it was stupid not to when both of them slept better like that, and there was barely room in Michael's clutter for a mattress there anyways.

Jeremy loved Michael's family.

Loved Felisa and her beautiful, long, brown hair, always done up in a fishtail side-braid, loved her warm brown eyes the same dark shade as Michael's.

Loved Oscar and his love for corny jokes, and whenever he came to visit and brought candy for both Michael and Jeremy - _“I practically have three sons at this point!”_

Loved Miya and her soothing voice, how she always smelled of jasmine and cinnamon, how it rubbed off on Michael and all his clothes.

Loved Victor, even if he was pretty blunt and rude sometimes, and he used to hog all the good video games when they were younger.

He'd only met them that one time at Michael's birthday party, but he was pretty fond of River and Tegan, too.

And the best part about it all was that they loved him back.

All of these facts ran together to form one summer day, where Jeremy and Michael were lazing about on the latters porch, trying to come up with something to do in the heat.

They really _wanted_ to play video games, but Michael had said if he went inside now, he'd probably die. Jeremy had said he might be being a little dramatic. Michael had pointed his tongue at Jeremy in response.

Originally they had both been sat in straw chairs, but Michael had slowly melted to the wooden planks below, where he was now laying sprawled out on his back. Jeremy was honestly considering joining at this point - he kept shifting in his chair and pressing his legs together and pulling them apart to escape the clamminess, but nothing worked. Eventually, he just slumped back in it, stared out over Michael's street.

Not a whole lot of other people were home, and the ones that _were_ probably had a functioning air condition, and weren't about to be sweat out of their own house.

His gaze switched to the ground, to the road in the middle with faltering white lines on it, looking light grey in the baking light. It looked like… Looked like a canvas for some much-needed entertainment.

“Hey, Michael?”

Michael responded in the form of a gargled acknowledgement - Jeremy laughed, looked down at him. “Tegan gave you some of her chalk for your birthday, right?”

Michael just nodded at first, thought Jeremy was about to leave it at that, suddenly seemed to realise what Jeremy was implying about ten seconds later. He snapped his eyes open with a gasp, sat up and gripped at Jeremy's knees, looking up at his face with an unreasonable gleeful expression.

“Jeremy, holy _shit_ , I can't believe you just single-handedly eradicated boredom.”

Jeremy laughed, pushed Michael's hands off of him because it was just _too hot_ for his best friends usual touchiness. “Wanna go get them?”

“Just wait here, dude,” Michael staggered to get up, putting his hand on Jeremy's knee yet again to push himself up, then gave it a pat before heading inside to rummage for the items.

Jeremy rolled his eyes in a smile, took to fanning himself with his hand as he looked around at nothing in particular. He turned his head a little, caught sight of himself in the reflection of one of the windows to Michael's kitchen, frowned. His hair was somehow both sticking to his forehead with sweat and curling out in all directions, and his pale cheeks and neck were flushed, and his skin damp from the heat.

He shrunk self-consciously in his tank top - considered, just for a moment, risking death by overheating to cover himself up with a cardigan, before the train of thought was stopped by Michael barrelling back out of the house, plastic box full of colorful chalk in hand. He held it towards Jeremy triumphantly, exclaimed the Legend Of Zelda treasure chest tune.

Jeremy laughed, worries _mostly_ forgotten. He had something else to focus on now; Michael.

He pushed off from the chair, fixed the way his shorts stuck to his legs. “Sweet! What do you wanna draw?”

“How about, like,” Michael turned to consider their area of interest, rubbed at his chin with the hand that wasn't around the handle. “The _sickest_ game of hopscotch ever? We could make it Mario themed!”

Jeremy grinned, nodded, “yeah!”

They each decided on parts to work on, splitting the load up evenly, then got started.

About 45 minutes later, Jeremy's knees were lightly scraped from kneeling on the asphalt, and his clothes were covered in colorful dust, and he was _certain_ his pits were stained from all the moving and sweating - but looking down at their work on the road, and then glancing up to see the biggest grin on Michael's heat-flushed face, it was all worth it.

“Alright,” Michael set the box of chalk aside on the sidewalk, jumped back to stand by Jeremy's side, “who goes first?”

Jeremy considered it. “Rock paper scissors?”

“You're on!” Michael grinned, tongue sticking out at Jeremy as he turned to face him. Jeremy did as well.

“Best of three?”

“Booo, wimp. _Alright._ ”

Jeremy rolled his eyes - set off the counting. Whooped triumphantly after they picked the same option the first two times, before Jeremy beat Michael's rock on the final. Michael groaned, shoved lightly at him, then stepped back from the board to give Jeremy space.

Jeremy went to the start, eyes trailing over the road they'd drawn. He prepared himself a little, leaned back and forth on his feet, then set off. He made it to 1, 2-3, 4, 5-6, 7-8, 9, 10, 11-12 - briefly glanced to Michael, and proceeded to immediately trip over his own feet when he realised he was in the process of taking his shirt off.

Jeremy let out a pained yelp as he hit the ground, felt a sharp throbbing in his ankle and burns along his arms and thigh - heard Michael go “shit!” and then the sound of sneakers against asphalt as he ran towards him.

Saw Michael lean down over his dazed self, eyes big and worried, cheeks red from heat, shoulders bare - _shoulders bare_ , Jeremy's breath caught in his throat and sent him coughing.

“Holy shit, dude - are you alright?” Michael half-laughed. Jeremy nodded weakly in return. He pushed himself up on his elbows, ignored the painful way the bumpy ground beneath him dug into his skin. Michael was kneeled next to him.

Still shirtless.

 _Christ,_ why was that messing Jeremy up so bad? He had seen Michael shirtless countless times before, in locker rooms, in their dimly lit bedrooms as he changed into his nightwear, but for some reason this was _different._ He didn't know why.

All he knew was that Michael's bare chest, illuminated by the sun and glistening with sweat in a way that was somehow good-looking, made Jeremy's heart pound like he'd just run a marathon

Michael leaned over him, shifted his hand under Jeremy's knee to lift it so he could inspect the damage, wrinkled his nose at it. “Shit, we should get you cleaned up.”

All of Jeremy's thoughts other than why-is-Michael-so-hot-suddenly kicked in all at once - made his heart hammer even harder from anxiety. “Uh, fuck - sorry, no, we don't have to, you still have to go, I'm sorry I tripped, I'm - _god,_ I'm such a klutz-”

“Geez, Jer,” Michael laughed softly, raised his hand to signal for Jeremy to shut up. Jeremy did, if only because Michael's laugh made his voice die in his throat immediately. “It's alright! I can go later, or tomorrow - I'm pretty sure it's not gonna rain in. Like. The next 500 years, probably.”

Jeremy laughed, despite himself. “Yeah, okay, you're right.”

“I'm always right,” Michael said, matter-of-factly.

Jeremy snorted.

“Oh, shut your yapper and get up!”

Jeremy laughed again - tried to join Michael in standing up, but fell back down with a wince when he tried to put his weight on his right foot. Michael's worry-face was back on, the other leaning down to take a closer look at Jeremy's ankle. He reached down and squeezed it, and Jeremy felt an immediate flash of pain, sucked in a tight breath and let it out in a yell.

“Aw, hell. I think you twisted it. C’mere,” Michael went back to Jeremy's upper end, leaned down and offered his arm. Jeremy realized what Michael wanted him to do - use him as a crutch - but he felt like he might die if he actually did, cause of death: touching Michael Mell’s bare skin.

Still he forced himself to, because he would rather die than weird Michael out.

With some difficulty, they got him standing, his arm around Michael's shoulders, Michael holding onto his hand tightly, the other one on Jeremy's waist. Michael was warm against his side. Obviously, it was a bajillion degrees outside - but a different kind of warm than physical, too. Jeremy got that same feeling, the one when Michael grinned extra wide or laughed so hard he started snorting, except magnified to a fatal degree.

He was starting to realise what it might be. Unfortunately, knowing didn't make it feel any less fatal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> familial headcanons and mild angst WHOOP!! thats the 2 am feel babey
> 
> also i would fucking die for the mells i love them so much


	4. pulling all-nighters with your best friend on a school night,

“How do you  _ live _ like this?”

Jeremy looked over at Michael to see him running a finger over the metal on his teeth, extremely saddened as he did so. Jeremy laughed, shrugged.

“You'll get used to it. But it's tight as hell for the first couple of days.”

Michael made a gargled noise of displeasure in reply. Jeremy snorted, leaned over to slap his shoulder.

“Don't be a wimp!”

“Easy for  _ you  _ to say!” Michael huffed, dropping his hand again to push Jeremy's away with it. Jeremy ignored the way their fingers making contact made his heart sing. “I look like double the nerd now. I already have these monstrosities,” he tapped his thick black glasses, “and now I've got a metalmouth, too!”

Jeremy went silent. Shifted a little and looked away. “...Do braces really look that bad?” He muttered, quietly.

Michael seemed to realise his mistake very quickly. “Hey, no, Jer- Jer! That's not - we're not comparable, I don't  _ suit  _ braces, you do!”

Jeremy snorted, glanced back over at him, “how can anybody suit braces?”

“I don't know, man, but you made it work for you!” Michael shrugged. “Seriously, it fits right in with your dorkish charm. Yours are endearing. You're still good-looking. Mine are just flashy.”

Jeremy felt something tweak inside him at Michael calling him good-looking, got a gentle smile back on his face. “You don't look that bad, dude. Like a nerd, sure, but, you did before, too - so.”

Michael laughed and rolled his eyes. “Well thanks a lot for that.”

“Hey,” Jeremy reached over to pat his shoulder again, “it's what I'm here for.”

Michael glanced over at him - smiled, sincerely. “And damn am I glad you're here.”

Jeremy felt his stomach do a flip. He always had trouble meeting people's eyes, but with Michael, he had trouble ever looking away.

Up until the middle of summer vacation, whenever Michael did a thing a particular way that made Jeremy's breath catch in his throat, Jeremy would ignore it - shove it deep, deep down to the darkest corner of his heart, joining the thoughts of his mom and other things he did  _ not _ want to face. 

Now they were right at the start of the school year, and ever since Jeremy twisted his ankle, he knew he couldn't ignore it any longer. 

There was no straight or platonic explanation for his whole face going red and his heartbeat speeding up at the sight of a shirtless Michael. He was crushing, and he was crushing  _ hard _ , and Michael's big grins did absolutely nothing to help.

“One might say I'm glad you're  _ Heere _ ,” Michael muttered, smile turning smug.

“...Out - out, out of my house, get out of my house  _ right now,  _ we have a NO PUN POLICY in this good christian home-”

“You're jewish!”

“You're a butthead.”

“You - you're a - a - shit, there's nothing bad about you.”

Jeremy snorted, broke into a laugh. “Aw - thanks.”

“Yeah, whatever, stop being so  _ perfect, _ ” Michael huffed, crossed his arms. Jeremy snorted again.

“Coming from  _ you. _ You're better than me. By, like, a landslide.”

“Dude, no!” Michael turned to him, expression urgent. “Better than you at video games, sure, but like - you're great, dude. Great. GREAT!” He threw out his arms in a big gesture, made Jeremy laugh again.

“Whatever you say, man,” Jeremy smiled, looked back to the computer in his lap. “Ugh. I am  _ not  _ going to finish this essay on time.”

“Eh, fuck school,” Michael shrugged, leaned back against the wall Jeremy's bed was up against. Jeremy snorted.

“I hear that.”

“What's the time, anyway?”

“Uh - “ Jeremy's eyes darted to the corner of the screen, blinked. “Oh geez, it's almost 10 PM already.”

“Wait, what?” Michael's eyebrows furrowed, his hands immediately going to pull his phone out of his pocket - “ _ oh, _ it's dead - that's why the folks haven't texted me.”

As if on cue, Jeremy's phone started ringing, the Adventure Zone: Balance theme filling the room while he fumbled to get it out of his pocket, offered it to Michael after checking the display. “It's your mama - you want to pick it up?”

Michael nodded, accepted the call and pressed the phone to his ear, biting at his lip. 

Jeremy listened to the one side of the conversation he could hear, felt his heart ache at the thought of Michael going home soon. Sure, he'd see him again tomorrow, but that was a while.

Jeremy must have been gazing at Michael without realising, because Michael noticed and laughed nervously, breaking himself off mid-explanation that his phone died to say, “ _ what _ ? Sorry mama, Jer’s staring at me and I can't concentrate.”

Jeremy flushed - punched at Michael's shoulder, making him laugh louder. 

“Mamaaa, he's punching me!... I don't wanna go home, though!... Yes, getting punched is worth it.”

Jeremy couldn't hold back a laugh, falling sideways to bury his face in Michael's neck. Michael chuckled, wrapped his free arm around Jeremy's shoulders. He paused again, looked down at him.

“Do you think I could sleep over, actually?” He muttered. 

Jeremy didn't even think before he nodded eagerly, but he didn't want to, anyways. Didn't need to, he could care less about whether or not Michael was allowed if it meant not letting go of him ever. Michael grinned, turned his attention back to his phone call.

“Hey - if I promise we go to bed at a reasonable hour and don't skip, can I actually sleep here? Yeah, Jer says it's okay! Alright, what's the one condition? I mean, you can't really  _ stop  _ me- NO NO NO, I promise we won't go to 7/11 at midnight, please let me stay!”

Jeremy watched the vast journey Michael's face went on, having trouble holding down his laughter. Finally, Michael broke into a big grin.

“Sweet! Thanks mama! See you tomorrow! Say goodnight to mom for me? Thank you! You too!”

Michael hung up, threw Jeremy's phone to the mattress - then tackled him in a hug, pushing him back against the wall with accidental force. Jeremy startled, then broke into a surprised laugh, hugged Michael back. “What's - what's this for?”

“I just love you, man,” Michael laughed, paused - “no homo.”

Jeremy's breath caught in his throat, and he tried not to let his disappointment show as he rolled his eyes and pushed Michael off of him again (no matter how much he wanted to keep holding him). “You sound like Jake.  _ Don't. _ Goes without saying for us, anyways.”

Michael snorted, stuck out his tongue at Jeremy. “The heck does that mean?”

“You know,” Jeremy straightened up a little, pulled his laptop back on his thighs from where it had slipped off after he'd been tackled. His cheeks heated up slightly, but he ignored the burning of his lies, “that we're not gay, and like - a hug isn't about to change that.”

Michael paused, looked hesitant for a second.

“I'm… I think I might be, actually.”

Jeremy blinked. “You- you might be gay?”

Michael nodded.

“Oh,” Jeremy internally screamed to drown out the immediate hope and possibilities filling his head, nodded back. “That's cool.”

Michael snorted, “what,  _ that's cool?  _ That's what you have to say about your bestie of ten years bein’ gay?”

“Well - I don't know!” Jeremy shrugged awkwardly, “it's not like - I'm exposed to gay stuff a  _ lot _ ‘round your house, I don't know how surprised I'm supposed to be!”

Michael laughed, scooted back to lean against the wall again. “You know what, fair point. Least you're not - like - freaked out or anything - you're, you're not, right? I mean - you're still cool with sharing beds and everything? If not, it's - I can -”

“Micah,” Jeremy broke him off, raising a hand to beckon him to be silent. “It's cool. I'm cool.”

Michael nodded. After a beat, he snorted. “You're really not, though.”

“Wh…” Jeremy blinked in confusion, before he realised with a gasp what Michael meant, punched his shoulder in indignation, “asshole!”

Michael laughed, pushed his hand away, “I'm joking! You're totally cool. But - like - unconventionally cool.”

“So - in other words, I'm a loser, but I'm the same type of loser as you.”

Michael rolled his eyes in a smile. “Go back to writing, fucker.”

Jeremy snickered, but did as instructed. Or tried to, anyway. Mostly he just ended up staring at the screen, at the overwhelmingly blank document, while Michael leaned over his legs to plug his phone into Jeremy's charger.

After ten minutes of his fingers hovering over his keyboard, brain yelling at him to  _ go _ but body being unable to, he gave up with a groan, head falling back against the wall. Michael looked up from the 3DS he had whipped out, snorted.

“Are you dead?”

“Yeah. I'm deceased.”

“Aw.” Michael clapped the handheld console together again, reached over to brush his fingers through Jeremy's curls. Jeremy hummed, closed his eyes, felt the tension and frustration seep out of his body. “That's a shame. I like hanging out with you.”

Jeremy smiled, but didn't answer, just leaned into the nuzzling.

They were silent, for a little, before he took a deep breath and spoke again.

“I think I'm gay, too.”

Michael's hand stopped moving - Jeremy opened one eye, looked over at him. He looked dumbstruck. “Really?”

Jeremy nodded.

“But - didn't you talk about liking that girl from your chemistry class a lot? The one we got grouped with for the orientation tour, before we started high school?”

“Yeah, that's - that's my thing too, because I do like her - Christine is her name, by the way - but, there's also…” Jeremy chewed at the inside of his cheek, opened both eyes to give Michael a nervous look. “There's this one guy I like a lot, too. So, I don't… I don't know which one of those is supposed to be fake, because they both feel so real.”

Michael hummed, nodded. “I don't think either of them have to be fake.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I've definitely heard of people liking both girls and guys, one of my mama's friends has brought both girlfriends and boyfriends over. Think my mom called it…” Michael trailed off, scrunched up his nose in thought. “Bye? Byesexuality? When I asked her about it? I don't know, look it up!”

Jeremy did as told, turning his attention back to his computer - typed in the term Michael just used. After a second, he snorted. “Oh, you were close - its  _ bi, _ not bye.”

“I'm -” Michael blinked, “what's - what's the difference? You just said the two exact same words?”

Jeremy reached up to grab Michael's wrist, yanked him closer, resulting in a yelp from Michael as he fell into Jeremy's side. He didn't move, though - just shifted to get comfortable against him, eyes scanning the screen. “Oooh. Guess that makes more sense than bye. Maybe. I don't know. The heck does bi mean?”

Jeremy pointed to the screen, at a little fact box in the corner that answered Michael's question.

“Oh! Yeah, that  _ definitely _ makes more sense. So,” he lifted his head a little from Jeremy's shoulder to look at him, an eyebrow raised, “you bi?”

Jeremy read over the description once more, then twice, then a last three times just for good measure. “I'm… I mean, I think so. It makes sense.”

Michael grinned. “Cool! Two identity problems solved in one night, hell yeah.” He paused. Got a smug twinkle in his eye. “So - who's the boy you like?”

“Oh my god - “ Jeremy lifted his hands from his keyboard to slap them over his rapidly heating face, then elbowed a laughing Michael away from him. “I'm not telling you!”

“What? Why? Why do I only get to hear about the girls!” Michael sat up straight again. “We finally have something to  _ talk about _ , damn it!”

“As -” Jeremy snorted, pulled his hands away again to raise an eyebrow at Michael, “as opposed to the complete silence we always sit in? Oh, yeah, we  _ never  _ talk about  _ anything _ but girls-”

“You know what I  _ mean, _ ” Michael rolled his eyes, slapped Jeremy's knee. “We can talk like the other boys in school do.”

“I don't wanna talk like them, though. They're dicks.”

“Good point,” Michael laughed, then paused. “So - what? Why do you like one of them if they're all assholes?”

Shit. “Uh,” Jeremy's brain stumbled over itself for words, “It's- just- just, just cause they're jerks doesn't mean some of them aren't cute,” he muttered.

Michael looked defeated for barely a second - then he broke into an easy grin. “Yeah, I guess - Dillinger's got an alright face.”

Jeremy felt a little sting in his heart, but let out a small laugh as well, muttering some agreement.

Jake's face was very different from Jeremy's. His was more square, more angular, compared to Jeremy's soft jawline and slightly pudgy cheeks. His complexion was clear and tan, nothing like Jeremy's, as white as a sheet and dotted with acne and freckles and splotchy red half of the time because of his anxiety. 

Jake looked better. Way better. 

Michael was a hundred times hotter than both of them combined, though, in Jeremy's opinion. 

Michael, with his chubby cheeks and pink lips and floppy black hair and beautiful, deep brown eyes hidden behind thick black glasses. 

Michael, with his thick thighs and arms and pudgy stomach and soft skin. 

Michael, with his infectious laugh peppered with adorable snorts and his gravelly voice, charming even with the slight lisp brought on by the braces.

Jeremy was in so,  _ so _ fucking deep.  _ Shit _ .

“Dude,” Michael's voice brought Jeremy back out of his gay stupor, “you're staring at me again.”

“‘Cause I have literally nothing else to  _ do. _ ”

“Dude,” Michael repeated, sat forward a bit, gestured in front of the bed, to Jeremy's TV and numerous consoles.

“We played for like, four hours already!” Jeremy groaned.

“You gettin’ tired of video games, Jer?”

“For  _ today _ I am,” Jeremy huffed.

Michael nodded, hummed in thought. “We could go pick up some snacks and watch a movie?”

Jeremy snorted. “Didn't you promise your mama we  _ wouldn't  _ hit up a convenience store at midnight?”

“Yeah, but,” Michael leaned over to check the time on Jeremy's laptop, “she didn't say anything about 10:30 PM.”

Jeremy laughed, shook his head a little. “Alright. But if you want to watch a movie we'll  _ definitely _ be breaking the, reasonable bedtime rule.”

“Yeah, well - she probably knew what she was signing up for,” Michael shrugged as he scooted off the bed, bending down to wiggle on his sneakers. Jeremy followed suit, sitting on the edge of his bed to pull on his blue converse. 

He watched Michael's fingers deftly tie the red and blue shoelaces while he did his own, then poked at a hole in one of the grey shoes when he was done. “ _ When  _ are you going to get new shoes?”

“These shoes are fine!”

“I can see your socks.”

“Well, they're sweet ass socks, so you should feel lucky.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes - “that's not the point! The point is that your shoes are falling apart.”

“They still work, don't they?” Michael asked, putting his hands on his hips. Jeremy sighed.

“Barely, I guess.”

“Then if it ain't broke, don't fix it!”

Jeremy laughed. “They  _ are _ broken, though?”

“We are not taking any more complaints at this hour. Please write down your worries and shove ‘em up your butt,” Michael said as he leaned down to rummage around his backpack for his wallet.

“I don't know why we're friends,” Jeremy huffed as he stood up to grab his own, then shrugged on a cardigan as well. Michael just shoved down the sleeves of his black sweatshirt, then linked arms with Jeremy, pulling him out of the room.

Halfway to the stairs, he stopped - looked over at Jeremy. “Hey, you wanna tell your dad we're going?”

Jeremy thought about it - shook his head. “Let's just go. He's asleep, anyways,” he muttered. Michael stared at him for a moment, before he nodded, started going down the stairs. 

Jeremy slipped his arm halfway out of Michael's grip, for fear of Michael pulling on him wrong and making him trip down the stairs over his own feet, but kept holding onto his hand. He saw Michael smile, felt him squeeze his hand, squeezed back with a grin as they headed for the front door.

Soon as they were outside, Michael went to balance on the curb of the sidewalk, using his grip on Jeremy's hand for balance. Jeremy laughed quietly as Michael wobbled inelegantly, watched him in the yellow light of the streetlamps.

Finally, they made it to the store, still hand-in-hand as they stepped inside. There were a few other people around, but not a lot - the cashier looked like she regretted every life decision she'd made that put her behind that registry.

As they weaved in and out of shelves with battery chargers and shitty snacks, Jeremy leaned close to Michael's ear.

“Is it just me or do 7/11s always feel empty? Like, even if there are other people there?” He muttered.

Michael paused. Nodded. “Yeah, I get what you mean.”

“Mmh.” Jeremy hummed, both of them going silent for a little longer than comfortable. Then, “what do you wanna get to drink?”

“You wanna share a big gulp?” Michael deadpanned.

“We would  _ die, _ ” Jeremy wheezed, nudging at Michael's shoulder with his fist. Michael laughed.

“Maybe so! But don't you wanna die drowning in coke?”

“Not really.”

“That's valid,” Michael nodded, kept pulling Jeremy along the aisles. 

Jeremy had honestly thought that Michael would've let go of his hand by now, maybe halfway on the walk there, but he certainly wasn't complaining. The firm, grounding contact made his spine tingle, Michael's occasional squeeze of his palm sending a nice warmth through his chest.

Jeremy wasn't really paying attention to what was on the shelves at this point, more so Michael's head of black hair in front of them, comparing prices and muttering to himself how Walmart would have way cheaper Doritos if only it wasn't a million miles away.

“It's like, 10 minutes away by foot,” Jeremy interjected with a light smile on his face. Michael shot him a look over his shoulder.

“Same thing,  _ Jer. _ ”

Jeremy laughed, gently - feeling extra sleepy and loose, let himself fall forward to rest his forehead against Michael's shoulder. Michael tensed for a second, almost long enough to make Jeremy immediately back off, but he quickly relaxed again. Leaned his head back and tilted it sideways, to rest against Jeremy's.

“Remember, it's a bad idea for you to eat solid foods,” Jeremy mumbled against Michael's sweatshirt, bringing his free hand up to clutch at the black fabric at his side.

“Ugh, I  _ know _ ,” Michael huffed. Paused for a second, then brought his own hand up to rest over Jeremy's. Jeremy felt like an electric shock shot through his whole body, buried his face entirely in Michael's shoulder. Beside his ear, Michael chuckled gently. “You're being very cuddly, what's up?”

“I'm sleepy and you're warm,” Jeremy said.

“Aw. You're like a cat.”

“If I was a cat, I'd be giving you zero personal space. I'm just lightly invading it, right now.”

“Dude - “ Michael laughed, “around you, I  _ have _ no personal space.”

“Oh, really?” Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “So, what - if I did this,” he moved without thinking about it, straightening up for barely a second and sliding his hand out of Michael's grip, only to take a step closer to him and wrap his arms around his waist from behind, chest pressed against his back as he rested his chin on Michael's shoulder. 

As soon as it hit him what position he had just put them in, he wanted to seize up, throw himself in the nearest sewer and scream for a thousand years, but he sorta-kinda kept his cool. 

“You wouldn't mind?” He finally finished - hoped he was just overthinking, and Michael wouldn't pick up on the waver in his voice.

“Not in the least,” Michael replied, voice… Sort of indiscernible, emotionally, but definitely sincere and encouraging. “‘m always up for cuddling with my bestie.”

“Even in a 7/11?”

“Especially in a 7/11.”

Jeremy snort-laughed, buried his face in Michael's shoulder. “Nerd.”

“Dork.”

“Loser.”

“Shut-in.”

“Dweeb.”

“Geek.”

“Love of my life.”

“Oh my god, Jer,” Michael wheezed; Jeremy felt the vibrations of his laughter through his back, squeezed him tighter. If only Michael  _ knew. _

“Anyway, let's get some shopping done, yeah?”

“Alright - you wanna let go of me?”

“Hm... Nah.”

Michael snorted - “then you have to move with me.”

Jeremy nodded obediently, shuffled along with Michael on the linoleum floor. He stopped him as they passed a freezer, tapped at his stomach. “Should we get ice cream?”

“Lactose intolerance, Jer,” Michael sighed sadly. Jeremy snorted, used the tip of his shoe to point out a tub of ice cream that read ‘Lactose Free’. Michael gasped - “that's a  _ thing? _ ”

“I thought you knew? You were - you've eaten ice cream since we found out, have you just, like, been suffering?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Michael nodded as he went to open the freezer, pulled out the container. He glanced over his shoulder, at Jeremy. “You wanna share it? Because even if it's lactose free, if I eat that whole thing by myself I won't have an enjoyable night.”

“I mean - you  _ could _ save some of it for later.”

“Yeah, but… I have no impulse control. Pleaaase?”

Jeremy laughed. “Alright, sure.”

“Score,” Michael hummed, shut the freezer door again. He laid his free hand over the arms Jeremy had around him, squeezed gently at his wrist as they kept wandering.

They ended up also buying a bag of chips (for Jeremy), Oreos (the cookie part for Jeremy, the cream for Michael), a 2 litre of cola to be shared between them, and, of course -

“why is it you always buy slushies?” Jeremy asked as they were leaving the store, considering his best friend as they walked hand-in-hand again. Really, Jeremy would've been willing to walk all the way home with his arms around Michael, but he didn't want to be weird. Michael shrugged.

“‘S familiar,” he said around the straw. “Reminds me of the first time I had one, when we were 7, and I immediately drank too much and got a brain freeze.”

Jeremy laughed. “Oh, yeah, I remember that - that doesn't sound very pleasant though?”

“I mean, that particular moment wasn't, but it was the first time we had a sleepover.”

Jeremy's breath hitched in his throat, and he couldn't bite back the big smile that formed on his face. “That's kinda sappy, Micah.”

“You're kinda sappy,” Michael rolled his eyes, cheeks gaining a barely noticeable red tint, “besides - I'm not the one that uses the same nickname you've been using since we were four.”

“It's cute!” Jeremy complained.

“Yeah? Jerebear is cute too, but you never let me-”

“Jerebear is EMBARRASSING,” Jeremy groaned, earning a laugh from Michael.

“So, cute and embarrassing - just like you! It's perfect.”

“I'll kill you,” Jeremy grumbled.

“No, you won't.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you  _ looove _ me,” Michael leaned sideways, head on Jeremy's shoulder as they walked. Jeremy snorted.

“Unfortunately, I do, and I'm not happy about it.”

“I love you too, buddy,” Michael laughed, straightening up again.

They kept walking in a comfortable silence, for a little bit - then Michael groaned.

“ _ Ugh. _ Now with high school we gotta start worrying about prom.”

Jeremy blinked. “You… I mean, you're right, but where did that come from?”

“C’mon, Jer, you know my brain goes at a million miles per hour. Love connects to holding hands and holding hands connects to dancing and dancing connects to  _ dances _ and dances connects to prom - keep up!”

Jeremy laughed, nodded. “Alright, makes sense. Anyways, we still have like, four years to find someone to bring.”

“I don't know if I'll ever find someone, dude,” Michael huffed, “literally the only other guy into guys I know is you. ‘Cept for all my moms’ friends, obviously.”

“I mean,” Jeremy paused, bit at his lips, tried to shrug nonchalantly. “We could go to prom together, if - if neither of us have dates by then?”

“Really?” Michael looked over at him, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, dude. I wouldn't mind.”

“Sweet,” Michael grinned, gave Jeremy's palm a squeeze.

For barely a moment, Jeremy considered telling Michael that they didn't even have to wait, actually, that Jeremy would be alright with having Michael as his date right  _ now  _ \- but then they entered his driveway, and the thought was shunned as they climbed up the stairs to his room again. 

Soon as he had set his slushie aside, Michael pounced on the bed, falling onto it on his stomach. “Sweet release,” he muffled into the pillow.

Jeremy laughed as he put their bag of goods on the floor, then flopped on top of Michael, making him wheeze.

“Dickhead!”

“You said you never minded cuddling with your bestie!” Jeremy reminded him innocently, tried to keep pinning him down with his weight as Michael shifted around.

“This is attempted murder, is what it is, I can't  _ breathe, _ ” Michael gasped dramatically, finally managed to push Jeremy off of him and roll onto his back. In a weak attempt to keep the fight going, Jeremy flopped over, wrapped his arms around Michael's neck, but didn't quite have the willpower to crawl all the way on top of him - just rested his head on Michael's chest. Shortly after, Michael's hand came to rest on his back.

“Jesus. Your hearts goin’ fast,” he muttered, listening to the rapid  _ ba-dump-ba-dump-ba-dump _ echoing through Michael's ribs.

“Yeah, my best friend just tried to strangle me,” Michael murmured, voice vibrating through his chest.

Jeremy snorted, looked up at him. His eyes were closed, peacefully, his glasses slightly askew from the mini wrestling match.

“Are you tired? Wanna give up on the movie and go to bed?”

Michael opened his eyes again, shook his head - “ _ heck _ no. I wanna watch Mamma Mia.”

Jeremy snorted, pushed himself up a little. “Alright, that's valid.”

Michael paused. “I also don't wanna move, though. Like, at all.”

“Alright, stay there, your highness,” Jeremy rolled his eyes as he sat up, pulled his laptop across the mattress towards them and opened it. “You find the movie, I'll go get spoons and bowls for the snacks and stuff.”

“Hell yeah,” Michael hummed, absentmindedly kicked off his shoes while Jeremy left the room.

As it turned out, they didn't have any clean bowls, and only one spoon was neat as well. Jeremy sighed as he opened the dishwasher to find it empty, all their dirty dishes filling up the sink, clenched his teeth as he stomped back up the stairs, spoon in hand.

“We'll have to share a spoon,” He muttered, threw it towards Michael where it landed beside his head. Michael just nodded, still focused on the laptop. Jeremy got out the ice cream, opened the bag of chips and cookies and laid it all on the empty space besides his laptop, then sat down besides Michael. Michael finally leaned back, gestured triumphantly at the screen. 

“Movie acquired! They keep shutting all the good websites down. Idiots don't use tracking blockers and junk.”

Jeremy just hummed in reply, eyes on the preview, legs criss-cross-applesauce and his jaw tight. After a minute where noone clicked play, he looked to Michael, found him watching his face with a raised eyebrow.

“What's up?”

“Ugh, why do you always have to notice my feelings,” Jeremy groaned, buried his face in his hands. Michael laughed.

“That's just what happens after so many years of knowing you, dude.”

Jeremy huffed, sighed, dropped his hands again. “Just - he's still such a mess. My dad. It's really tiring to come home to dirty dishes and laundry everywhere.”

Michael nodded sympathetically, reached up to rub Jeremy's shoulder. “I get that. Anything I can do?”

“I don't know,” Jeremy replied unhappily. He paused, then turned - laid down in front of Michael, wiggled back a little to press into his chest. “Hold me.”

Michael laughed, did as told, wrapped his arms around Jeremys chest. After a brief moments hesitation, he threw his leg over Jeremy's, too. “Hell yeah. That I can do. You ready?”

Jeremy felt the safest and comfiest he had in years. “Yeah.”

Michael reached forward and pressed play.

Just about two and a half hours, numerous bathroom breaks, half a tub of ice cream and another impromptu wrestle session in the middle later, the credits had just finished, and Michael and Jeremy we're getting sleepy and silly. Sleep silly. Slilly.

Jeremy snorted out loud - started laughing from where his face was buried in Michael's chest, after he had turned around during the last few minutes of the movie because the screen was hurting his eyes. “Slilly,” he muttered, quietly, almost unintelligible.

“‘Scuse me?” Michael laughed, his voice that slurred, low tone it always was when he was tired.

“Slilly,” Jeremy repeated, louder.

“Still don't know what the hell you're saying.”

Jeremy wiggled back a little - not enough for Michael to take his folded hands away from the small of his back, but enough that Jeremy could clasp his hands on Michael's cheeks as he looked seriously into his eyes. “ _ Slilly. _ ”

Michael stared back. Nodded slowly. “Slilly.”

After .5 seconds, they both dissolved into laughter and giggles, Jeremy hiding his face in Michael's chest again.

“My moobs are not your pillow, Jer,” Michael wheezed.

“Then why are they so comfy?” Jeremy muffled, rubbed his face further in to demonstrate.

“Jer - jesus, you're one step away from motorboating me at this point-”

Jeremy gasped, immediately took the last step there, shaking his head back and forth while blowing a raspberry. Michael snort-laughed and finally had enough, pushing him away and rolling onto his back in the process. They laid like that, giggling and wheezing like idiots for a few minutes, before Jeremy rolled over to cuddle up to Michael yet again.

“I'm tiiired,” he hummed into Michael's shoulder, “but I don't wanna go to sleep.”

“Mmh. Wanna watch another movie?”

“Oh, hell yeah - which one?”

Michael paused. “Shrek 2.”

“ABSO-FUCKIN-LUTELY!”

 

* * *

“We're fucking idiots.”

“Dude,” Michael groaned, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses, “ _ tell me about it. _ ”

“Why’d you have to tempt me with the ogre and the amazing soundtrack,” Jeremy whined, trudging along next to Michael in the school halls. “That's like - that's the hundredth time we've watched it, too, that wasn't worth it at  _ all. _ ”

“And High School Musical directly after  _ was? _ ”

“High School Musical isn't a movie, it's art,” Jeremy yawned, pulled over to the side of the school halls to lean against his locker. “Think I can fit myself in here and take a powernap?”

“Not with those beanstalks,” Michael nudged at his leg with a foot.

“Asshole,” Jeremy whined. “God. I’m too tired to even lift my hand for the combination. I'm gonna die here.”

Michael stepped closer, leaned in to his ear - “then  _ perish. _ ”

“I hate you,” Jeremy laughed, weakly pushing him away.

Michael smiled. “Love you too, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEWWO ITS MY BORFDAY  
> turning 16 and Counting babes!!!


	5. getting stuck in a tree because you wanted to see how high you could climb,

The morning Jeremy broke his arm was actually a pretty great one, compared to the ones before it; he woke up to the rare occurrence of his dad making breakfast - turkey bacon and eggs. Still wasn't wearing pants when they sat down at the small, square kitchen table to eat together, but, whatever. Baby steps. He'd get there soon enough, hopefully.

The good morning ended when Michael called. ‘Course, at the time, to _past_ Jeremy, it went from good to great - he answered without hesitation, leaning back in his chair and giddily tapping his feet against the floor while he brought the phone to his ear, heart fluttering.

“Y’ello-”

“Jeremy, I need your help - like - _right now_.”

Jeremy sat up straight in alarm, anxiety budding in his chest, “what's wrong?”

“Just - you know that giant ass oak tree way back in my yard that my moms always tell me not to climb because they say I'd get stuck up there?”

The realization dawned on Jeremy almost immediately. “Oh my god.”

“Please help.”

“You're an _idiot_ ,” Jeremy wheezed with laughter while he got up from his chair.

“Damn straight - an idiot that's apparently extremely afraid of heights, also.”

And Jeremy wasn't heartless - “aw, are you okay?” Genuine worry in his voice as he climbed the stairs to his room to get dressed, setting his phone on speaker and throwing it to his bed.

“Yeah - your voice helps distract me from the fact that one wrong move and I'll plummet to my doom on the ground.”

“That's a little dramatic. You'd probably just break something,” Jeremy said, as he was pulling a new t-shirt over his head.

“You're the one that thought tripping slightly in the cafeteria was deadly.”

“Dude,” Jeremy staggered into his pants, one leg at a time, “high school freshmen are a hundred times more fatal than falling from a tree.”

Michael snorted, “what are you gonna do if you trip in front of the seniors?”

“Die, I guess,” Jeremy said, heard Michael laugh and smiled back as he tugged on a grey cardigan (way oversized, but at least his dad _tried_ that birthday). He sat down to pull on his shoes, haphazardly tied the laces and set the phone back to normal call mode, holding it to his ear - “how are you holding up?”

“Well, I keep getting vivid imagery of me on the ground with several bones sticking out everywhere pummeled into my thoughts, and I'm too scared to move or shuffle my legs like i usually do to get rid of those thoughts, and I've almost slipped _twice_ by now, so - I don't know, you be the judge.”

Jeremy was already on his way out of the door, let out a sympathetic bundle of noises. “You wanna go to 7/11 afterwards to help you move on from this traumatic experience?”

“Depends. Am I sensing… Sarcasm?”

Jeremy blinked, halted on the asphalt - “no? Did I sound sarcastic?”

“Oh! Uh, I don't know - a little. But anyway, since there was none - um, _hell yes_ let's go to 7/11 afterwards.”

Jeremy laughed, kept going, “I'm like, halfway there. How am I even gonna get you down, anyways?”

“I don't know. That's why I need you on the scene to figure something out. Your brains good at thinking outside the box.”

“Bold of you to assume I have a brain.”

“Yeah, sometimes, I'm not actually so sure, but you'd need a brain to overthink as much as you do.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes, “at least I _think_ before I do things, and don't just climb a tree despite having a fear of heights.”

“Look! I didn't know I had one before I did it!”

Jeremy laughed. “Well, at least we know that now. I can see your house.”

“How's it lookin’?”

“As old and faltered as usual.”

“Hell yeah. Those cozy antique vibes go hard as hell.”

Jeremy snorted as he opened the creaky old fence to the Mell’s back yard, eyed a half-rotted wooden pillar on the porch. “I don't know if those are the words I'd use. More along the lines of, like, unstable, unsafe, about to crash into a pile of sticks at any moment - that sort of thing, you know?”

“God - hey jackass!”

Jeremy lifted his head when he heard Michael yell that in both ears, spotted his best friend among the branches at the top of the tree. Jeremy laughed, ended the call, lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked up. “Christ, Michael - even if you _weren't_ afraid of heights, why would you go so high up?”

“For the _drama_ of it all,” Michael yelled back, tried for a dramatic gesture to suit his words - looked unstable for a split second and immediately clung to the bark again. “Also, I'm in hell.”

Jeremy shook his head a little, a smile on his face. “Well, let's get you out of there. What- what part of climbing down makes you anxious?”

“Try _everything._ ”

“Mm-mh,” Jeremy shook his head, “I'm not allowed to say that when something's scaring me, so you aren't, either.”

“God, why do you have to be so fair and smart?” Michael whined.

“I'm not, in any other context, but compared to you?”

“Dickhead.”

Jeremy laughed. “Come on Micah, work with me!”

Michael groaned in frustration, pressed his forehead against the bark. “...I can - I can look up while I'm climbing up, but I can't look down while I'm climbing down. And I don't know where I'm putting my feet, and I used less weight when I was climbing up, but I’m afraid I’m gonna break a branch climbing down.”

Jeremy paused, bit at his lip. “I could guide you down? Like, tell you where to put your feet.”

“I don’t normally trust your judgement, you think i’d do it in a life-or-death situation?”

“ _Michael,_ ” Jeremy rolled his eyes, exasperated. Michael huffed in frustration.

“Sorry. Humors my defense mechanism. Let’s do that.”

And it did work, for about a quarter of the way down, until Jeremy misjudged the sturdiness of a branch and heard a loud snap in the air and a frightened yell from Michael - and that was pretty much the last memory Jeremy remembered coherently that day, before the next hours merged together in a stressful and painful blur. Where they started untangling again was the next morning, where he slowly blinked awake in his own bed - squinting as he attempted to adjust to the sun filtering through his blinds, eyes watering from being thrust into light. He attempted to shift in his bed - felt a quick throb of pain in his left arm, and suddenly realised the whole thing felt like it was covered in stiff rags.

He looked down at it.

Blinked.

Recounted the blur of yesterday, and let his head fall back against his pillow again with a whine.

As soon as he did, he heard shifting from beside his bed - and a second later, Michael's head popped into view, wide brown eyes landing on Jeremy's.

“Jer! Holy shit, you're awake - I'm _so sorry_ , oh my god-”

“Why-” Jeremy blinked, barely registering Michael's words because the fact that he was _there_ was taking up all his brain power. “Why’re you on my floor?”

Michael pushed himself up to stand, Jeremy abruptly snapped his eyes back to his cast when he realised his best friend was in his briefs. “I didn't - I didn't wanna leave you alone. But I was also afraid of sleeping besides you, ‘cause I might’ve rolled on top of you in my sleep, or something, so your dad brought in a mattress.”

Jeremy felt the weight of his bed shift, duvet tightening where Michael sat down on the edge of it. He dared to look back over at him, but kept his eyes on his face, nodded - then startled yet again, “where are your glasses?”

“They broke when I fell,” Michael wheezed. “You definitely got the short end of the deal, there.”

“Oh, yeah, speaking of. Michael?”

“Yeah?”

Jeremy reached up with his good hand, put it on Michael's shoulder, squeezed sincerely, looked into his eyes - “don't ever climb a tree again. Ever. _Ever._

Michael snorted, broke into a laugh, leaned forwards to bury his face in Jeremy's shoulder. The pressure was very welcome, Jeremy not even able to stop and overthink it before his arm was around Michael's torso, keeping him down.

“I won't. I promise,” Michael chuckled against Jeremy's shirt. Jeremy smiled, tilted his head a little to lean his cheek against Michael's mop of black hair.

Comfortable silence fell over them - after a minute, Michael swung his legs up onto the bed. Wrapped his arms around Jeremy's neck, but kept his face in his shoulder.

Jeremy was honestly ready to fall back asleep again when Michael spoke up.

“I'm sorry,” he muttered, breath humid on Jeremy's shoulder. His voice was grainy, strained -

“Michael,” Jeremy blinked, “are you crying?”

Michael paused.

Nodded.

Jeremy moved his hand to the back of Michael's head, ran his fingers through the dark locks. “What are you sorry for?”

“Fuckin’-” Michael pushed himself up a little, gestured to Jeremy's arm. “That. That's my fault, that you got hurt - if I hadn't been a dumbass and climbed that tree - or just, _not called you_ , figured it out on my own instead of bothering you with all my stupid problems that I brought on myself you wouldn't be in pain-”

“Hey, hey, Micah!” Jeremy broke him off, hand going to cup Michael's cheek instead, wet with tears. His eyes were red, refused to look at Jeremy's face. “I'd be more hurt if you didn't tell me what was bothering you. I don't - I don't mind this,” Jeremy gestured with his left arm, “because it happened as a result of helping you. Like, I mind that it happened, obviously, because it hurts like a bitch and is a pain in the ass, but if I had to break my arm, I'm glad I did it helping you.”

Michael's face cracked, and he went to bury his face in Jeremy again, this time further up, sobbing into the crook of his neck. Jeremy's heart twisted painfully, and he brought his arm back around Michael's chest, hugged him tight.

Eventually, after a long sob session, Michael calmed down enough to lean back up again.

His eyes were puffy, his hair a mess and his whole face wet from tears and - and Jeremy had a realisation that shook him so deeply to his core he forgot how to breathe for a few seconds.

Even now, an outcried, snotty, exhausted wreck, Jeremy thought Michael was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. If he compared the feeling to Christine - sure, he thought she was pretty and nice and sweet and funny, but he thought Michael was both that and then so much more. He had no parts of Michael he could do without, no parts that he _didn’t_ love.

Knowing that Michael was out of bounds also hurt a hell of a lot more than knowing he didn't have a chance with Christine.

Before that moment, he didn't really get the difference between a ‘crush’ and ‘being in love’ - but now the lines were so clear they felt more like walls, a wall he could never get back over.

“You're staring at me,” Michael said, suddenly, voice thick.

Jeremy blinked, shunned his pain away. “Sorry, I - I zoned out.”

“You say that every time you stare at me, and you stare at me _all the time,_ ” Michael whispered, eyes searching his face intently, brimming with so many emotions Jeremy gave up on discerning any of them.

His breath caught in his throat, felt anxiety and dread rise in his chest as Michael examined his face, felt like the other was so horrifyingly close to uncovering the truth -

“Hey boys,” Michael immediately rolled off of Jeremy so fast he fell back onto the mattress besides the bed. Jeremy's dad, stood in the doorway, froze mid-sentence. Eyed them both suspiciously. Jeremy's face heated up, like they'd been caught doing something embarrassing, even if they were just technically having a very heated staring contest. “...Good morning?”

“Morning mr. Heere,” Michael muttered, sitting up cross-legged. Jeremy just mumbled an indiscernible acknowledgement, the usual.

Jeremy’s dad considered them. Seemed to mentally debate questioning them, for a few moments. Turned to Jeremy. “You doing alright, son?”

Jeremy nodded wordlessly.

“Alright, good - I bought some of you twos favorite cereal, in case you wanna come down and get some breakfast.”

“Thanks,” they said, in unison.

His dad lingered in the doorway for just a little too long, then finally left, shut them alone together.

“...Sorry, I didn't mean to get all in your face like that,” Michael said, after a minutes silence.

Jeremy shook his head - “no, it’s - I do stare at you a lot. You’re right. It’s just, um…”

Jeremy looked down at him. Met his brown eyes, slightly unfocused from the lack of glasses. Swallowed.

Backtracked as hard as he possibly could.

“Y-You - I think you’re? Hitting puberty? Um-”

Michael blinked, barked out a nervous laugh that didn’t seem to come from him finding the situation amusing. He looked like that was the last thing he was expecting Jeremy to say; and maybe a little disappointed, too. “I mean - I guess? Why - what does that have to do with staring at my face?”

Jeremy’s jaw tightened. “Your features are getting more defined. Like - subtly, but, but they definitely are, slowly but surely.”

“And why you checkin’ out my features to start with, Jer?”

Jeremy bit his lip. “...I’m comparing us?”

A little pause. “That’s stupid. We’re different people with different faces that work differently.”

Jeremy held back a sigh in relief that Michael bought it - and it was kind of a half-truth, anyways. “Like something being stupid has ever stopped me from doing it.”

Michael snorted, stood up. “That’s our tagline, us two. Anyways, I’m going to the bathroom.”

Jeremy nodded, watched Michael leave the bedroom, reaching out in front of himself to find his way without his glasses.

Once he was gone, Jeremy let his head fall back against the pillow, let out a deep breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> h e L LO  
> i am in exam and anxiety hell. i forgot to take my meds two days in a row and ever since then i have been in flames but i DID IT!!!!! I CPMPLETED THIS HELL CHAPTER  
> only two left to go WHOO!!!!!!!!!!  
> (im not the only one in hell also. jeremy and michael are right on either side of me but theyre too oblivious and blind to see the other one is in pining hell too and god i love these idiot boys)


	6. going on a roller coaster with loops even though you just ate an ungodly amount of candy floss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for vomit!! no super graphic descriptions but, one of them suffers and the other cleans up So. be prepared

When Jeremy was smaller, he'd been extremely sensitive to vomit. Even hearing someone talk about it could send him gagging himself, and it only got worse from there. 

Luckily, he outgrew this quirk; meaning he was free to hold back Michael's long bangs as he leaned over a Six Flags toilet, gagging loudly. It still wasn't pleasant, but at least he was there to help.

“Sorry,” Michael coughed out between dry-heaves.

Jeremy shook his head, “don't apologize to me, apologize to your stomach, dude. You keep torturing it. First it was milk and now this - I'm starting to think you might be a masochist.”

Michael managed a laugh, shook his head as he finally leaned back from the toilet bowl, sweaty and tired. “If I were a masochist I would be enjoying this in some sense. There's nothing but suffering, here.”

Jeremy tutted sympathetically, reached over Michael to grab a few pieces of toilet paper. He went to wipe off Michael's mouth, was met with the other jerking back and staring at him with wide eyes.

“What are you doing?”

Jeremy blinked. “Cleaning your face? It's covered in spit and bile. I mean, if that's, if that's the look you're going for I won't  _ stop _ you, but-”

Michael shook his head, “no, I mean, I know, but - I could do that myself. You don't have to… You don't have to clean my own vomit off of me, dude.”

“I don't mind.” Jeremy only realized that was maybe a little strange to say after he'd said it. Michael stared at him, eyes swimming behind his new, round glasses.

“You're weird,” he concluded, leaned closer to Jeremy again. Jeremy snorted, lifted his hand to wipe off Michael's face, moved his brown spectacles to sit in his hair - effectively using them as a headband as well.

“No, I've just been friends with you for so long that this isn't as weird as it should be. I wouldn't do this for, like…” Jeremy trailed off. Paused. Pursed his lips. “Well, if I had literally any other friends, I wouldn't do this for them. But you? Always.”

“I'm touched,” Michael snarked, earned himself a flick to the forehead. He laughed, leaned into Jeremy's hand a little. “God, I'm exhausted.”

“Understandable,” Jeremy hummed. “Both because of the, y’know,” he gestured to the toilet, “and because every single Six Flags ride feels like you're cheating death.”

“Right? Why do we even come here!” Michael laughed. Jeremy just smiled, shook his head a little.

Outside the stall, the main door opened, and a second later -

“Boys?” It was Oscar's voice, “you doing okay in there?”

“We'll be out in a sec, dad,” Michael called back, eyes closed and head wobbling with Jeremy's hand movements. Oscar sighed a little; Jeremy could imagine the stern, fatherly head-shake he was giving them on the other side.

“I told you not to eat that cotton candy.”

“Well, you bought it, so - who's the real one at fault here?” Michael muttered. Jeremy tried to hold back a laugh, couldn't.

“Oh, really!” Oscar started, a fake scolding tone to his voice. “What should I do, then - never buy you cotton candy ever again?”

“I'd actually greatly prefer that after this, yeah.”

Oscar laughed. “Well, lesson learned, at least. We'll wait for you both by the exit, okay?”

“Okay,” Michael confirmed. Jeremy dropped the used up tissue paper in the toilet as Oscar exited, wordlessly grabbed a new piece.

After a moments silence, Michael opened his eyes again, looked to Jeremy quizzically.

“What's wrong?”

Jeremy blinked, broke out of the frown he didn't realize he'd fallen into. “What? Nothing.”

“No, something's definitely wrong,” Michael insisted, pushed his glasses back down again.

Jeremy paused. Sighed, looked down.

“It's just - your dad. He's a really, really good dad. And both your moms are wonderful. And you have an older brother, and even if he's a dick sometimes he's pretty cool too, and - “ he sucked in a tight breath, fiddled with the bottom of his t-shirt. “...I’m jealous.”

Michael was silent for only a little, but just long enough for Jeremy's anxiety to start running wild. Then, he leaned forwards - pulled Jeremy into a tight hug.

“Jeremy, they're  _ your  _ family, too,” he mumbled into Jeremy's shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze. “ _ We're  _ family.”

Jeremy paused. Hugged Michael back, but felt a tight spring of nervousness in his stomach. “Like… Like, brothers?

“ _ God  _ no,” Michael snorted, “I already have Vic to deal with, he's bad enough. No, we're…” He trailed off. Leaned back a little, not enough to let go but just enough to look into Jeremy's eyes. Searched them intently like they had the right words to say written in the blue-green. “...We're not brothers. But we're something, something really important, you and I.”

The spring released in relief, set off bouncing around in Jeremy's stomach in excitement as they stared into each others eyes. He nodded, muttered, “yeah. I agree.”

Michael smiled, rubbed his hand down Jeremy's back. A quiet tenderness hung in the air; it felt like the world was holding its breath, like they were supposed to do something specific right about now.

Then the main door opened again, and the smell of vomit flushed the tenderness out of mind. Jeremy let go of Michael, Michael followed suit. Wordlessly they got up, flushed, left the stall - but right as they were about to go for the door, Michael grabbed Jeremy's hand. Intertwined their fingers. Jeremy looked down at it in surprise, then at Michael's face, a focused expression with the barest hint of nervousness present.

Jeremy grinned. Gave him a squeeze, and pulled on him to go join the rest of civilization again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two broooos chillin in a bathrooom wiping vomit off each other cause theyre Not Gay


	7. kissing your best friend of 12 years.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then Jeremy was, too.

“Okay,” Michael gasped, pushing Jeremy up and off his lips by the shoulders - “not that I'm not, like - enjoying this to an unhealthy amount, but, I'd like to talk about this before I choke out from lack of oxygen.”

Jeremy just took a couple of seconds to _breathe_ before he processed what Michael said, let out a breathy, nervous laugh. “R-Right, sorry.”

“No, dude - I'm -” Michael shook his head, aimlessly fumbled after words as he ran a hand through his hair. His glasses were slightly askew, and his lips were red and raw and slick and, wow, god, Jeremy suddenly had the urge to kiss him again. He restrained himself, though, as he had done for many a years. “There's, believe me, there is absolutely no need for you to apologize over this, I'm - wow.”

“Wow,” Jeremy agreed in a light chuckle. He decided that if he stayed pinning Michael to the bed any longer he probably wouldn't be able to resist; rolled off of him to lie next to him on his back instead, closing his eyes.

They just laid like that, for a little while, collecting themselves.

“...So.”

“So?”

“So,” Michael snorted. Took a deep breath. “Jeremy, I - I need to know. Was that - was that just, a spur of the moment thing? It's fine if it was - we can, like - we can forget all about this, if you want to. That'd be fine by me.”

Michael didn't sound like it'd be fine by him.

And suddenly, a lot of things made sense in Jeremy's head.

How Michael always asked him why he was staring at him, but never once asked him to stop. How, whenever they'd approach Christine in the halls, the bounce in his step would falter, his smiles would get a little plastic - and how that immediately stopped once Christine and Jeremy broke up shortly after all of the SQUIP stuff.

How Michael even forgave him for that, to begin with.

How there was always that soft sting to Michael's big grins whenever they held hands or hugged or cuddled up while watching a movie - holy _shit_ , Jeremy was blind. Oh my god. Oh my _god._

“...I think I really started falling for you when we were 12,” Jeremy muttered, after a moments silence where he mentally kicked himself for so many years he missed where he could've been doing this with Michael. He didn't open his eyes, but he very much heard the familiar sound of fast fabric rustling, knew Michael had turned to look at him _very_ quickly. “I started, and then I couldn't stop. You made it really easy, falling for you, you know?”

“I don't know anything, apparently,” Michael whispered, and Jeremy couldn't help but laugh. He opened his eyes again; found Michael staring at him, wide-eyed and fragile, like he didn't really believe this was happening.

“That's not true. You know a lot of things. You're actually really smart. But we're both dumbasses when it comes to love, I think,” he smiled. Michael's eyes widened even more, if possible - and then he was falling forward, burying his face in Jeremy's shoulder and screaming into it.

“Oh my god. This is _not_ happening,” he muffled into the dark blue fabric of his t-shirt. Jeremy laughed, ran his fingers through Michael's hair.

“Do you mean that like - in the good or the bad way?”

“I mean - both,” Michael leaned back again. “On the one hand I extremely love you back and this is definitely the best day of my life but - like - on the other I can't believe this is how it happened? That we just _kissed_ out of nowhere? I mean -” Michael broke himself off. Fell back to lie flat on the mattress, stared up at the ceiling. “If you laugh at this I'll kill you but I made a flow chart and everything, for possible confession outcomes. I have a three page confession letter in my drawer and a back-up saved on my computer and a whole folder of notes on my phone dedicated to this and - and we just _kissed._ Out of nowhere. What the hell and also fuck.”

Jeremy watched Michael in stunned silence, broke into a goofy grin. “Wow. And people call _me_ the overthinker between us.”

“Shut up,” Michael rolled his eyes, blindly punched at Jeremy's shoulder. “If somebody had given you the idea we both know you would've done the same shit.”

“...No, actually,” Jeremy hummed, softly. “I wouldn't bother. I really didn't think I had a chance with you.”

Michael blinked. Turned his head to stare at Jeremy, then squinted a little - “ _how?_ ”

“Yeah, I'm - I'm asking myself that too, now,” Jeremy laughed, scratched at the back of his neck. “But you're not any better! Like I said, both dumbasses when it comes to love.”

“Yeah, but,” Michael shifted, rolled onto his side to face Jeremy. Jeremy followed suit, found the tip of his nose almost brushing against Michael's. “You, like - you talked about Chris, all the time. I thought she was the only one you were interested in, so I have an excuse. _Me,_ I've - I'm - I have P.E. with what feels like five hundred walking abs and I haven't once gushed about another boy to you. _Ever._ ”

“Eeeh,” Jeremy tilted his hand in the air, “you've thirsted over a couple of stage actors to me in the dead of night.”

“ _Obtainable_ boys,” Michael clarified. Jeremy snorted, shook his head a little.

“I don't know. You're just… You're so amazing, I thought you were way out of my league. Which you are, by the way, you could probably snatch one of those walking abs right up with ease.”

“I don't want walking abs, though,” Michael hummed, voice dropping a bit in volume. “I want you in all your stick thin glory, with your pointy hips and cheekbones and bony ass that hurts my thighs when you sit in my lap.”

“Wow, thanks,” Jeremy snorted.

“No! I mean it!” Michael moved a hand to Jeremy's cheeks, cupped it, looked sincerely and eagerly into his eyes. “You're fuckin’ gorgeous, Jeremy. Everything about you is beautiful - and _yes,_ ” Michael broke Jeremy off even as he was just opening his mouth to protest, “I mean _with_ your nearly translucent complexion and freckles and acne and scars and permanent circles under your eyes. You're out of this world.”

Jeremy stared wide-eyed into Michael's earnest eyes. Blinked back tears. “You are, too,” he sniffed quietly, put his own hand on Michael's waist. “With your - your soft cheeks and your dimples and messy hair - and - and, god, it's so hard to describe how perfect you are, Micah.”

Michael scooted forwards, buried his face in Jeremy's chest and muffled yet another scream into it. He paused.

“ _None_ of this was on my flowchart.”

Jeremy snorted, broke into laughter as he wrapped his arms around Michael. Bit a little at his bottom lip. “Was me asking you to be my boyfriend on the flowchart?”

Michael tensed up in his grip. Nodded against his shirt.

“What were all the outcomes?”

Michael swallowed, burrowed further into Jeremy's embrace - “um. First one's you going sike once I say yes and laughing in my face.”

“That's so out of character. I would never say sike.”

Michael snorted. “There are a couple of similar ones - ones where I misheard you, or you were talking to somebody behind me or something.”

“What about the genuine ones? Where I _am_ asking you seriously?”

Michael curled up further into his chest, pressed his forehead against Jeremy hard.

“In one we try it out but go back to being friends. In one we have a really intense messy break-up in the rain and I get hit by a speeding car, somehow, even though we're in the heart of suburbian New Jersey. In one we date through high school and college, get married, have a kid, move to California - and then it branches off, and we have a few different endings: A zombie apocalypse, an alien invasion, a very long winded divorce where we're both rich and through the whole deal make more and more extravagant purchases to one-up each other. There's a lot.”

“Oh my god,” Jeremy laughed, softly, “I love you _so_ much. Why do we have so many bad endings?”

Michael's arms folded around Jeremy's lower back. “...I never - I never let myself see it, realistically. Because I never thought you'd ask me.”

“...Well,” Jeremy pulled back a little, tilted Michael's head up with a hand under his chin. “I am. Michael…” He took a deep breath, “will you be my boyfriend?”

Michael stared up at his face. Was too choked up to say anything, so he just nodded very enthusiastically.

Jeremy laughed, leaned down again to connect their lips once more, was immediately met with Michael throwing his arms around his shoulders, carding his fingers through Jeremy's messy curls as they melted into one another.

“I love you,” Jeremy repeated in a mutter against Michael's lips.

“I love you too, _so much_ ,” Michael replied, clutching Jeremy's hair like he was afraid he'd disappear if he let go.

Jeremy shuffled closer, wrapped his arms around Michael's waist, held him as close as he possibly could - reassured him wordlessly that he wasn't about to go _anywhere._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND WE'RE DONE!!!!! my first finished multichapter fic ahejdjd  
> however! this could technically be considered worldbuilding ? because i plan for most of my fics to take place in the same universe as this one, whether post-squip or pre-squip, so stay tuned for sequels/prequels and anything else!


End file.
